


the world is sick, so kiss me quick

by orphan_account



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, barely though (it's mainly sad), i dont know how tagging works help me, it'll get better!!!, sonja's gonna be here too but not yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8750224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You're the man of my life."Say it again," Even had said, crowding into all of the cracks between his armor.He had tilted his head, and deliberately let his mouth fall open, before reaching for Even and pulling him down, down, down.-or, what happens after episode 8.





	

**Author's Note:**

> im not quite sure where i want this to go yet, but ive felt like :'-(( ever since i watched ep 8........ my poor boys

It all starts with the rain.

Five minutes ago, it had started raining. Isak sits in his bedroom, quiet and subdued. The outside world blurs together as the rain creates smears of color in a muddied palette of pedestrians and storefronts. It looks like the cups of dirty brown water that Isak had left, uncleaned and unattended, when he was six and he had just learned how to paint with watercolor. Isak feels unsettled, like the dusty wisps of paint that arise when someone takes a brush and dips into the cup as they violently stirs its insides. His stomach hurts. His head hurts.

His heart hurts.

Five hours ago, he had stood there on the street where Sonja left him in the early hours of the morning, gasping for air, clutching onto Even's shirt as he stared desperately into the night. He vaguely remembers the couple that had passed him on their way to the bus stop, talking and laughing. There were bruises in his chest cavity in the shape of Even's fingerprints and tiny crescent shapes that he had carved into his heart and Sonja had crowded into them, an unfamiliar and unwelcome force that had ripped him apart and left him there, weak and spilling onto the streets outside of the hotel.

Predictably, his phone goes off again. Isak twists in his rumpled bedsheets and buries his face in his pillow. It's 2 am, he can't sleep, and it feels like his world is melting around him, rushing down like slush in the spring. The roaring in his ears doesn't abate, and neither does the static in his head.

Five months ago, he hadn't even known who Even was.

He hadn't known the suffocating feeling of crying himself to sleep and the abject despair he felt trying to figure out his sexuality. He hadn't known the searing disappointment of waking up alone and cold, the awful feeling of his stomach rising to his throat and crawling into his mouth when he watched Even kiss Sonja like she was something precious, something beautiful. He hadn't known the softness in Even's eyes as he crowded him against the kitchen desktop, pressing their noses together and humming a love song with their eyes shut tight, didn't recognize the 'let's spend the day together doing absolutely nothing' smile and the 'I missed you and I'm so glad you're here' flutter of his eyelashes. He hadn't known the taste of Even's mouth as he licked into it, the smoky, dark flavor that he would chase after, or the way Even's mouth would always be rougher, nipping and sucking on his lower lips when Isak would familiarize himself with the roof of Even's mouth, tighten his arms around his neck, and pull him closer until their bodies were right next to each other.

Five weeks ago, Even had kissed Isak in the pool, and Isak had kissed him back.

Five days ago, Isak had woken up alone in an empty bed after the night where his life had changed, and felt dull and hollow. His eyes had searched the room for something - anything - before he settled back, sighed, and gotten out of bed. He had dressed himself thoughtlessly, blaming himself for falling for a boy that spun beautiful lies out of his mouth before swallowing him whole and leaving him, uncovered and vulnerable. He had opened the door, and hesitated, hearing more than two voices coming from the kitchen.

Then Even was there. Even, with his rumpled curls and genuine smile and his soft, soft lips. "Good morning," he had murmured, both an explanation and an oath all at once, crossing the room to kiss him right in front of his roommates.

"I didn't know what you wanted," he had said, brandishing a spatula. "So I just made everything."

Isak's heart had melted, and the warmth stretched all the way outwards to the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his toes. He could feel the coats of paint peeling away from the wall that surrounded his heart every time he pressed his mouth to Even's, soft and pliant under his broader frame. Dimly, he could hear the notes of some pop-synth song flitting through his mind, but he was focused on Even's eyes, his mouth, his warmth.

_You're the man of my life._

"Say it again," Even had said, crowding into all of the cracks between his armor.

He had tilted his head, and deliberately let his mouth fall open, before reaching for Even and pulling him down, down, down.

 

 

And then five hours ago Even had taken his world and flipped it upside down. Isak still can't tell if he's in a dream or not. How could he not have noticed? Why didn't Even tell him?

_I don't need mentally ill people in my life right now._

Isak sobs, the sound catching in his throat. It's all his fault. His mind flashes back to the hotel room, of the warm afterglow slipping away slowly while listening to Even go on and on and on about marriage, and balconies, and limousines, and realizing that something wasn't right. He rubs furiously at his eyes and breathes raggedly. He shouldn't have said it, never would have if he had known. Overwhelmed, he swallows, cheeks still wet and glistening. He had let Even go - had pushed him away before they even had a change to begin becoming something more.

 _I need some time._ _I think we're going too fast._

He didn't mean - he never meant -

"Isak?" There's knocking on his door before it cracks open. It's Eskild. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Isak mutters, twisting over to face Eskild. "Just the rain, you know. And other things. Can't sleep."

Eskild frowns. "I don't know what happened tonight," he says slowly, "or why you were with Sonja. But I want you to know that no matter what happens, I care about you. I'm here for you. I know you might not want to talk about it, and that's fine, although-"

He exhales, then cuts himself off abruptly. "I don't want to make assumptions," he sighs. "I know how much you hate that. You decide how you feel."

_Only you control how you feel._

"Good night, Isak," Eskild whispers, and he shuts the door.

Isak presses his lips so hard together that they hurt. Tomorrow, he thinks, breathing shakily. I'll do something tomorrow. But the voice inside of his head that he has been pushing off, scared to touch, manifests so suddenly that his breath catches.

_What if Sonja was right? What if I was just..._

His phone goes off again. Restless, he turns again in bed, unwilling to leave the safe pocket of warmth that his sheets provide. He pushes that voice, along with everything else Sonja had said, into a small drawer in the back of his brain, and locks it away. He can deal with it in the morning.

 

 

In a dimly-lit room on the other side of the city, Even sits, his fingers clenched tightly around his phone. His body itches with the urge to get up, to escape, to run, but his mind is so, so tired. He aches for something, longs for someone that doesn't want him back. His breath fogs against the window as he watches the rain and melts against the darkness of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. verb tense is a MESS im sorry... the # of times i said "hadn't known" makes me cringe  
> 2\. i had to google "what does pressing ur lips too hard together feel like" and got trumpet and trombone embouchure suggestions, so i had to settle for "it hurts." thanks google  
> 3\. hmu on [tumblr](http://5ny.tumblr.com/) where i cry (only occasionally) (actually always)


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